


At Rest

by Wind_Ryder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Funeral, Missing Scene, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Ryder/pseuds/Wind_Ryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Scene from Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Spoilers for the movie. </p><p>A much needed funeral takes place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Rest

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. 
> 
> This covers the canonical death of a major character. The movie failed to have a funeral scene. I've done my best to correct that.

There’s no body on the pyre. The wood’s been stacked, but there’s no body. The General called everyone around. The order traveled through the ranks. Everyone gathered, filling the large field in a great circle. They stood, wearing ceremonial uniforms, quiet and waiting. 

Chewie found Rey in the Falcon hours before. He crouched at her side, placed his big furry hands on her knees. He moaned and groaned in Kashyyyk. He led her from the Falcon, and the General provided her with appropriate clothes. Now, they stand side by side. Watching the empty pyre. Waiting for it to burn. 

Somewhere high above them, a song is playing. Light. Mournful. Lingering. A thready soprano is accompanied by a lower bass. Joined soon by an angelic choir that sings out an endless cry. Mourning the loss of life the only way music can. 

The General is in the center of the field. She holds a torch within her wrinkled palm. Back straight. Head up high. Noble and dignified. “We are gathered here today to give honor and respect to our fallen. We have lost friends, family, loved ones…” The General pauses. “Speak now the names of your dead.” 

Voices rise up from the crowd. Soldiers and civilians alike. All calling out the names of the dead. Chewie roared out Han. Rey watches as the General’s lips moved about the name as well. Tears pull at Rey’s eyes. “Han,” she whispers into the night. The General raises the torch high, then brings it to the sticks. 

The pyre lights aflame.Rey watches. The air around her seems to tighten and break. It twists and constricts. It releases. Sags. Tears came faster now. Falling quicker and quicker down her face. She rubs them away. 

Chewie puts an arm around her shoulder. She can’t stop crying. The tears keep falling. She lifts her hands to her eyes. 

She had been scavenging less than a week ago. Minding her own business. Now here she was, and Han was dead, and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. She can feel endless sadness, though. She can feel a heart breaking. Hundreds of thousands of miles away, she can feel the heart of a very sad and lonely man shattering under the pain of loss and dismay. 

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry_. 

She doesn’t know who’s apologizing. If it’s her. If it’s the _man_. If it’s the General. The soldiers. Chewie. She doesn’t know. She can just feel it. Coursing through her in an endless wave of grief and sorrow. 

The tears keep falling and the pain only grows. 

The fire burns for hours. She doesn’t leave. 

The General approaches when the pyre starts to settle to ash. Much of the Resistance had left by that point. But not Rey. Not Chewie. They wouldn’t leave. Not until the end. 

The General doesn’t mince her words. “I heard what you did. On Starkiller.” Rey rubs at her eyes. She doesn’t want to talk about it. What she did wasn’t nearly enough. She didn’t help Han. She didn’t save him. She failed. 

“I’m sorry,” Rey whispers out loud. Echoing a sentiment she's half convinced only she can here.

“There is no need. But I do have a request. A favor.” Rey wipes her face. She straightens. “I need you to finish what we started. I need you to go to Luke.” 

“I—Finn’s not—”

“We’ll watch after Finn. Get him up. But we need you to leave. Get Luke. Bring him home. Or see if he can help.” 

“I can’t I. I have to wait for him. Have to make sure. He saved my—I have to wait—”

“Please.” 

Chewie roars again. He huffs a few more sounds, and Rey looks to him. She wipes her eyes one final time. The fire’s almost completely burnt out. A bed of coals lingers on the ground. Rey can feel the lightsaber at her back. She licks her lips. She doesn't want to. She wants to stay. Stay to make sure Finn's okay. That they all—obviously not all, new tears form immediately at the horrible thought— made it out.“Okay.” 

The song keeps going. One final note raising high above. Circling. around them. _No more tears_. Rey swears to herself. 

But she hears the sorrow continue despite her declaration. Feels the pain go on. 

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

Han Solo’s funeral ends the way his life was lived. Amongst a small group of friends, where someone was always missing. Great love melded with great loss. 

_I’m sorry_. 

Chewie roars. The night fades into night, and Han Solo is finally put to rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr. I am open to prompts: http://www.falcon-fox-and-coyote.tumblr.com


End file.
